The Experimental
by YamiTami
Summary: RED is experimenting with a new sort of team. They do some experimenting of their own. //the guy characters as girls, lesbing in later chapters//
1. Chapter 1

**Since people are still interested in my fics over here and FFN has fixed a couple (but not near all) of the issues it's been having, I'll start posting my stories here again. This is really against my better judgment and if they screw up so that dashes disappear or the ads somehow get more annoying, then I'm not coming back. It's bad enough they still don't allow tildies for no apparent reason.**

**I'm posting this in chapter one of all my stories so everyone knows where I can be found. See my profile for the link to my homepage.**

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Men stared and shared half-hidden whispers. No one could quite understand what they were seeing: an oddity was seated at the training camp's makeshift bus stop. Two oddities, in fact.

One was sitting straight-backed with dark hair knotted in a tight bun only slightly softened by the stray curls at the forehead and each ear. Ankles were crossed and hands were folded in a lap covered by a floor-length, striped dress in rusty earthy tones. Her expression was a slightly relaxed severe, framed by oval glasses.

The other was in a more languid pose, leaning on the armrest with one leg at full extension. Coppery auburn hair was also tied back in a bun, but far looser with wisps escaping all around. A thick red work shirt a size too big was covered by black denim overalls, which were tucked into well worn boots. Eyes were covered by dark welding goggles but no doubt bright as the smile.

The onlookers boggled at the toolbox and medic's pack leaned against the bench's sides as the two women continued their chat and ignored them.

"I can't _wait_ to get out there in the field, personally," the one in overalls drawled. "Book learnin' is all right, but nothin' beats the compellin' force of reality."

The other woman smiled, not as wide as her companion perhaps, but then she was a much more reserved person. "Ze action is more interesting, ja?"

"Hah, that's real amusin' comin' from you."

"How so?" she asked, pretending not to know what her companion was talking about. They'd sat next to each other on a four day bus ride and had already exchanged life stories. The German woman was a nurse turned meatball surgeon (and occasional Angel of Death) when the War hit, and when it ended she was unwilling to go back to blindly taking orders from the 'real' doctors. The Texan worked the oil fields since she was a teenager, more recently becoming the first in her family to go to college and earning an incredible number of PhDs.

In the past months they'd both joined Reliable Excavation and Demolition.

"I'm _talkin'_ about you runnin' 'round war zones fixin' people up... and fixin' people, if you catch my meaning."

"You have also done vell, my hard hatted friend. Zis 'roughnecking' is dangerous vork, and your schooling is truly impressive."

"Aw, you're makin' me blush."

At length a paper-pusher type came to fetch them and enter their information into the system. He didn't seem to know what to do with either of them, but he tried to keep his composure. He also tried to be a gentleman by picking up the Texan's toolbox and found it was too heavy to handle. She laughed good-naturedly, swung her bag over her shoulder, and easily hefted the thing off the ground. The German smothered a rare impulse of non-sadistic laughter as she shouldered her own gear and personal effects. The man hid his embarrassment by carrying on with business.

"Welcome to RED Training Camp One. From this moment on you belong to Us. You have no pasts, no names, only your class designation. Engineer, Medic," he said, nodding to each of them in turn, "follow me."

The two headed off, ready to prove their worth in the RED Experimental Female Team.

----------

It turned out that Medic and Engineer were the first of the new team to arrive at the final camp. They'd all received their class training at various other facilities; now they were to learn how to work together. Usually a team didn't train together before shipping out, but as they were the Experimental they had to jump through a few extra hoops. They'd have to be a better team than any of the men ever were in order to pass all the tests and clear the way for other women interested in the questionable business.

Medic was pleased to see that Engineer was similarly aware of what her contribution could mean to future female employees of RED, though the Texan seemed to be more interested in the early learning stages. Teach the girls how to change a tire at 12 and maybe something will take, that sort of thing. Medic was fascinated by Engineer's persona and personality. While personal bonds weren't absolutely necessary, she was glad she'd found at least one friend in the Experimental.

They got to the place set aside for the nine of them, a small building that likely had a past life as a storage house. It wasn't spacious, but then barracks aren't supposed to be. Four bunk beds and one slightly larger cot stood in a row against one of the long walls, a row of roomy lockers and specialized storage for their gear lined the other. One short wall housed a few battered desks and the other the entry for their 'bathroom,' a couple sinks, a couple stalls, and a curtained off arch to their own communal showers.

"Reminds me of the sleepin' arrangements when we worked a rig outta state," Engineer said with nostalgic fondness as she hauled her things inside. With a marker left for them she claimed a locker in a scripty-yet-neat scrawl before handing it off to the other woman. "Guessin' we're the first ones here."

"Ja," Medic said distractedly as she concentrated on writing her 'name' in English. She hoped her days of written tests with essays were over; it was enough to learn speaking the language.

Engineer leaned out to see the interior of Medic's locker and raised an eyebrow. "You own nothin' but dresses?"

"I could never get used to trousers," she replied, shrugging. "No worries; they are all combat-ready."

"To each her own, huh?" the Texan smiled, hanging up her stack of overalls. "When do you reckon the others will get here?"

"I hope soon." the dark haired woman sat down on one of the beds. "I do vonder what they are like."

Engineer joined her. "I can help a bit. Our Sniper stopped by the base I trained at once. She didn't have to go through basic since she's been an assassin for years."

"Oh? Vat vas she like?"

"I only got to meet her for a minute, but she gave the impression of bein' real serious about her job. Real straightforward."

"Zat is good"

"Yeah, I think I like her. 'Course I also met our _Spah_."

"Is zat not--"

Medic was suddenly cut off by a wordless shout coming from the direction of the door. That was all the warning either of them got before a blur tackled Engineer.

"Hardhat!" the blur squealed, resolving into a young girl. Long, bright blond hair was tied back into a high ponytail, fuzzy armbands adorned her wrists, and she was wearing baggy capris and a red T-shirt that fit without being tight. That, coupled with her obviously considerable energy, made it clear who she was meant to be.

"Scout?" Medic asked in a neutral tone. She knew Scouts came young and hyper and it was almost endearing, but she worried that this girl wouldn't take her responsibility seriously. She was the first female Scout in history... Medic forced the preemptive negativity into the back of her mind.

The girl became aware of Medic's presence and removed herself from the laughing Engineer. She leapt off the bed and stood over-straight as she thrust out her hand in greeting.

"Yeah, I'm Scout!" she said in belated introduction. Her handshake was a little too vigorous, as expected, and there was some definite grip to it. "Nice ta meet'cha."

Medic still stuck on how young Scout looked--she couldn't be more than eighteen--but knew that was a trait shared by others of the girl's class. She smiled politely and made herself reserve judgment until she saw the blond in action.

Scout became a flurry of action putting away her things. With barely a glance to ensure the outside door was closed she kicked off her pants and donned a skirt she said came from her high school field hockey days; it was a possible explanation for the oddly shaped wrapped object leaning against the wall. Through her chattering to Engineer, Medic learned that the two were indeed in the same training camp and thus their camaraderie. She made herself comfortable and merely observed the interaction.

----------

They were left to wait with no further orders, presumably until the rest of the team arrived. Once Scout settled down to... well, still hyper, but a more manageable level, they settled into a game of cards. Medic was surprised to learn that it was Scout with the impervious poker face and that Engineer was as easy to read as a book. She herself was middle ground, her detached researcher expression gave away no tells but the fact that she'd never actually played Texas Hold 'Em worked against her.

Scout probably picked up on Medic's uncertainty as her talk quickly turned to tales of brawls. Knowing that the girl had seven properly violent brothers explained why she was good enough to make the Experimental. The calico-wrapped package was indeed her old field hockey stick, altered to better suit a higher swing. While the girl's stories were full of teenage language and mention of cute boys, there was just enough morbid humor to keep Medic reminded that this girl probably did belong on the battlefield.

"So then I circle this guy, yeah? And he thinks my bruddah's are jumpin' in any sec. Too busy looking at them to even _see_ the first couple swings, and by then he's on the pavement." The girl grinned at Engineer. "Call."

It was amazing how bad the Texan was at poker. "Um... you first?" she suggested weakly. They never got to hear Scout's reply as the door suddenly slammed open.

"Atten-HUN!"

Scout half jumped up, Engineer dropped her cards, and Medic regarded the newcomer with her usual stoicism. Combat boots, a deeply defined frown, and a military style helmet were the overall first impression. The woman at the door wore army green fatigues, a white tank top, and was shouldering a duffle bag that looked like it had similar origins. Her dirty blond hair was cropped somewhat roughly--Medic guessed it was a self-cut--and her demeanor seemed to suggest that a lot of her was self-done.

Medic absently wondered how she saw past the helmet covering her eyes as she stomped over. The newcomer regarded the desk-turned card table with distain before raising her hand to her temple and greeting the small group.

"SOLDIER, reporting for duty." She dropped the over-tense salute and returned to the previous distain. "Why do you maggots think you have enough time for recreation? We're HERE for a REASON."

Scout instantly assumed a classic teenage pose, hand on her hip with her spine so out of alignment she looked like a case study in scoliosis. With more than a little attitude she replied, "Hey, I wanna get out there bustin' heads, too. They ain't gave us nothin' to do."

"You will address your superiors with RESPECT."

"Lady, I'm from _Boston_."

There were another few moments of tension between the two before the older woman burst into laughter that beat Engineer in rambunctiousness. There was a touch of insanity to it. Medic liked her already.

They fell into another round of auto-biographies as Soldier organized her locker and critiqued Scout's heap still by the door. 'Maggot' was certainly the woman's favorite word. As her exploits were explained in loud drill instructor voice, Medic realized she might have heard of them already. If Soldier was the same lone mad woman who tore a path of destruction through the Nazi army then she was indeed a force to be reckoned with. Medic looked forward to seeing her, and the rest of them, in action.

About an hour after Soldier's appearance, the man who checked them all in arrived. He didn't stay long, only handed out a few sandwiches and gave them instructions to follow the crowd to the mess hall in the morning. They were on standby until the day after next, when all the team save Heavy would be assembled at the base. The next day was for waiting. He didn't have to tell them it would also be for dealing with the rest of the trainees once they figured out what the women were there for.

They continued their card game before breaking off into reading, diagramming, and rearranging lockers until lights out.


	2. Chapter 2

Medic was brought out of her dreams by the sound of running water and a sense of humidity. She blearily blinked herself awake and fumbled for her glasses. A quick survey showed that Soldier's boots were gone and Engineer was still in bed (also suffering from the bus ride across four time zones), so it was probably Scout making the windows fog up. Medic was half-tempted to be grumpy at the young girl until she saw the time. Ten o'clock was about time to be moving.

With a groan she rolled out of bed and then vaguely arranged the sheets where they belonged. She stumbled her way to Engineer's cot and prodded her in the shoulder.

"Time to get up."

A groan was her answer. Medic yawned and tried again.

"I know, adjusting is difficult... but if I'm awake then you're going to be too."

Engineer groaned louder and, with apparent effort, rolled around to face Medic.

"Whuzzat?" was the less than intelligible question.

"It's ten in the morning."

"That's great," the Texan replied with some sarcasm, rubbing her face.

"Then we are in agreement." Medic gestured behind her. "I'm hoping a cold shower will wake us up."

Engineer's hand dropped back to the bed and Medic was met with quizzical green eyes.

"What?"

Engineer chuckled. "You understand that not one of the words you said was English?"

Instantly playing the last minute back in her mind Medic realized that yes, she had been carrying on a conversation in German and not even realized it. She knew that at least half the other women were native English speakers and suddenly she felt very foolish and out of place.

She half stomped, half sleepwalked to her locker, irritated at herself for slipping in her speech and for the sudden baffling desire to 'fit in.' She didn't need anyone but herself; she proved that a long time ago. Sure, she was glad that she liked Engineer and Soldier (the committee was still out on Scout) because it would make the teamwork easier... but she didn't _need_ to like them.

Must be getting old, she thought as she rummaged for her shampoo and comb. Getting ridiculously sentimental...

"Hey now, don't take it hard." There was the sound of creaking springs. "Lord only knows how any of y'all understand me half the time."

She tried not to smile, feeling a little better. With a heavy sigh she forced the irritation and its cause to the back of her mind as she reached for the hem of her nightgown.

The smooth white fabric had just cleared her stomach when the door opened and their _male_ Commander walked in without any sort of announcement. Medic couldn't stop the indignant shriek that sprung from her lips or the instinctive fumble to cover herself, which ended with her on the ground. The man looked at her with surprise as she blushed red all the way down to her still exposed thighs.

Suddenly her view was obscured as Engineer placed herself between them. Even though the redhead was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a heavy duty athletic bra she didn't seem fazed by their Commander's presence.

"All right, mister," she said, planting her hands on her hips, "I fully comprehend that you are the boss, but we employees still get some basic courtesies. Like knockin'."

"Yeah!" Scout added, rushing from the showers dripping wet and wrapped in a towel. "Just 'cause some'a us ain't proper don't mean _all_ of us ain't proper."

The Commander looked back and forth between the two with a flabbergasted look written across his face. Finally he gathered his wits enough to leave the building, uttering some vague apology as he did.

Scout sounded disgusted. She turned to Medic, still on the floor looking shellshocked. "Aw, are you okay?"

Medic shook her head in an attempt to come back to her body. She felt beyond embarrassed for her extreme reaction, especially when the other two women were both calm, confidant, and confrontational. Soldier was doubtlessly the same way. Here she'd been worrying if the others were too soft to be in this team and she couldn't even keep a level head in a situation such as this.

This is some first impression, she thought miserably. They'd be crazy to put their faith in her after this.

Suddenly there was a hand in front of her nose. She looked up and saw that Engineer was leaning down to help her. She took the offered assistance and found herself pulled to her feet.

"I... I am sorry..." she said, looking at the floor and making a conscious effort to stay in English. "I should not have--"

"Oh no, now you stop right there," Engineer interrupted. "It's a social convention that's mighty hard to break out of. Trust me, I've been there."

Medic only looked at her with disbelief. This confidant woman shrieking in modest outrage?

The Texan laughed. "Yeah, I've gotten past it. But when I first traveled with the team and was tryin' to catch a shower in public facilities, whoo boy. Spent the first month blushin' darker than my hair."

"And _I'm_ just from a huge family," Scout cut in, "and only _one_ bathroom."

Medic didn't know what to say. She was just so used to any sign of feminine weakness being used as a weapon to attack her skills. In the void of any harassment she didn't quite know what to do with herself.

The other two seemed to understand. Engineer clapped her on the back before turning to her own locker, whistling a cheery tune. Scout grinned encouragingly before darting back to the shower to wash the soap out of her hair.

Medic decided that maybe, _maybe_, it wouldn't be so bad wanting to like them after all.

----------

Soldier appeared when Medic and Engineer were getting dressed. Her tank top was drenched in sweat so Medic assumed it was some sort of morning exercise routine. Soldier was the only one up early enough to make breakfast mess; she said it seemed like the boys weren't aware of the Experimental's existence just yet. Then she went on to criticize the late sleepers for sloth. Medic altered her original positive opinion to 'good in battle, bad to be around when she's on a roll.' And maggot was _definitely _her favorite word.

After Soldier caught a quick shower they were off to supply to spend the next couple hours trudging through paperwork to get their gear. Medic was grateful that she already had her close-range weapon--the archaic bonesaw her father used in his early days--because it took forever to fill out even one form. Hers were particularly long since the medigun and syringe gun were more technical that a shotgun or pistol. Finally they were stashing their weaponry back at the shack and running to catch the end of lunch.

By that time most of the boys had figured out what the girls were there for. The incomplete Experimental was met with everything from bewilderment to amusement to hostility. None of them were intimidated. Engineer was simply good ol' girl polite and greeted the worst staring offenders with a friendly howdy. Scout did the same, except instead of a greeting she openly flirted with anyone age-appropriate, mostly other scouts. Soldier glared back at the men with an intensity that could have ignited the table, spared the room a single quiet 'maggots,' and then fell silent. Medic simply ignored the lot of them and focused on the back of Engineer's head.

Once they got their food they settled at an abandoned end of a table. Scout babbled an impressive amount considering the rate at which she was shoveling food into her mouth. Already her voice was becoming an almost pleasant background noise. Engineer seemed to half listen, nodding occasionally between bites. Soldier almost seemed to be sulking, sitting with a slouch that was in contradiction to her usual military perfect posture. Medic, as usual, said nothing and observed the three women, eyes occasionally darting to the side to take in the room.

She decided that the men there were predominantly amused or slightly insulted and probably thought the Experimental was doomed for failure. Only a few were openly hostile; unfortunately most of that group were heavies. Most of the scouts were simply... _interested_ in the pony-tailed blond. The rest of the men were harder to read as they weren't actively staring.

Medic stopped scanning the room and returned to her food. She'd get a better read of the base once actual training started.

----------

"You know, for camp grub that wasn't half bad," Engineer said with optimism as they headed back to the shack.

Medic shrugged. "I have had vorse."

"You wanna taste bad?" Scout asked rhetorically as she bounced along beside them. "You gotta eat my cousin Jane's cookin'. There's a gal who was not made to cook."

"Rations do not NEED to taste good," Soldier said, the slouch fading away and the drill instructor coming back. "Rations only NEED to provide the body with the nutrients it requires."

"Zis is true."

"Aw, c'mon Medic. There's gotta be somethin' bad about the food tastin' real bad."

The German shrugged again. "Remember, our food comes from ze lowest bidder."

"Hey," Engineer put in as she opened the shack door, "they make it up to us with the damn enjoyable toys we get to..."

Another woman had arrived. At least, Medic assumed it was a woman.

"Mr rmph!" The pyro said in enthusiastic greeting, raising a gloved hand as... they spoke.

"You here for us?" Engineer asked almost warily. It did seem a little early for their 'classmates' to start pranking and harassing in such a direct way, but better safe than sorry.

The pyro nodded. The four crowded in the entryway stood in awkward silence. The newcomer seemed to understand and turned sideways, pulling the thick hazard suit as tight against their torso as they could.

However obscured, there was a slight definition indicating breasts were under there. The group relaxed. Somewhat.

"All right SOLDIER," Soldier started as she approached Pyro with her usual menace, "Do you think you have what it TAKES to achieve VICTORY?"

Medic swore she could see the confusion and eyeroll despite all of Pyro's body being completely covered. There was an answering 'mrmph' and thumbs up.

"We will SEE," Soldier replied, about as close to satisfied as she seemed capable.

It was Scout's turn to descend upon the new arrival. "Hey man, you evah take that headpiece off?"

Pyro leaned back slightly, and again Medic could read the emotion despite the full body coverage. The slow shake of the head was hesitant and apprehensive.

"'Kay," was Scout's response before she wandered off to examine her weaponry in closer detail. The slight slump to Pyro's shoulders indicated relief.

Engineer and Medic made more formal introductions and brought Pyro up to speed on the game plan. The two of them volunteered to take the newcomer to supply for her weaponry while Scout went to the track and Soldier obsessively cleaned her arsenal. Pyro accepted with a grateful nod and the three of them headed out.


	3. Chapter 3

Medic was fascinated with Pyro. Never before had she seen someone so expressive with so much of their body covered. Even though she couldn't understand anything the other woman was saying she could still discern the message from Pyro's motions. While she'd been the quiet observer for most of her short time with the team (excepting her bus-born camaraderie with Engineer), the German actually took part in conversation to better study Pyro's way of communication.

Supply was greeted with two strong accents and a chorus of 'mphs' when the three women arrived. Medic and Engineer stood to the side while Pyro sat down with her forms. She arrived with nothing more than a backpack, no weapons, so she had to fill out three sets of the annoying papers. Her thick, heat-proof gloves must have made it very difficult for her to hold the pen properly, but she bent to the task with determination and slowly made her way across the pages.

Medic and Engineer took seats in the waiting room and chatted while they waited for Pyro to finish. They talked about this and that, but mostly about how well the Experimental would work together and wondering about their absent team members.

Medic remembered that the Texan said something about their 'Spah,' but when she asked Engineer about it the red-head just looked irritated and settled into an almost pouty slouch. She mumbled something around the lines of 'don't need to practice on your own team,' which worried Medic slightly. The Experimental needed to work... but then, Engineer had worked with men who were violently against a on the oil field and she still got the job done. Plus, it just seemed to be a natural opposition, spies and engineers, even when they were on the same team. Medic put it out of her mind for the time being; she couldn't make a proper evaluation until she actually met the woman.

They moved on to the topics of absent conversation; while the forms for ax and shotgun were fairly short, it took Pyro a long time to finish due to the handicap of her gloves. When she reached the last, lengthy one dedicated to the flamethrower, she paused and made it clear to the supply personnel that she wanted to see the device first.

She scoffed at the row of shining tanks and barrels and then pointedly handed the form back to the clerk. After some muffled arguing that both Medic and Engineer watched with some amusement, she was given directions to the scrap heap where she could salvage parts to build her own flamethrower. Engineer was tasked with making sure Pyro's construction didn't end with an explosion, but Medic wasn't all that worried. The eye-roll and distain behind the mask were evident; it wouldn't be the first device she constructed from spare parts.

When they got back to the shack both Soldier and Scout had returned from their exercises and were just finishing in the shower. They were promised the rest of the team would arrive by the end of the day, but with dinner less than an hour away it seemed unlikely. They had a mostly good natured discussion negatively aimed at the establishment until it got Soldier on a rampage and they all got lectured on respecting superior officers.

Soldier was just reaching the crescendo when the door opened and (thankfully) interrupted her. Standing on the threshold was a petite woman dressed in charcoal slacks and a baggy sweater in gray and muted green. Her bag was made of leather and looked older than she was, covered with scuffs and a rough patchwork of repairs. She dropped that and kicked it out of her way, but the newer case in her other hand she handled with delicate care, taking it to one of the desks and setting it down gently before making any indication she knew the others were there.

In contradiction to her tasteful and conservative clothing, there was a definite untamed look to everything above the neck. Her hair was tightly curled and frizzy, barely confined by a simple black cap and accompanying headband, her grin was eager, confidant, and rough, and there was a definite untamed spirit shining in her one brown eye.

"Greetings, lassies!," she bellowed with surprising force (though she didn't quite match Soldier's shout). "Yer Demo_wo_man is here." She stood with fists on her hips and surveyed the group ranged across the room. When she turned her head to the right Medic could see the edge of a pink scar peeking from under her eyepatch. The troubling question of depth perception sprang to Medic's mind, followed shortly by her small frame. While Scout's leanness was to her advantage, a demolition expert had to carry quite a lot of gear into battle. Certainly they wouldn't send someone completely incapable of doing the job... but then again, there were doubtless many who would love to see the Experimental fail...

All the other doubts she buried came swimming to the surface. She was vaguely aware that at least most of the others rose to greet Demowoman, but most of her attention was on the fact that Scout was so young, that Engineer never mentioned taking a life, that Soldier might be a literal loose cannon...

There was a sudden weight on her shoulder and she looked up, her face reflected in the darkened glass windows of Pyro's mask. Medic could see the reassuring smile via the same amazing expressiveness that was so interesting to her.

She supposed Pyro was right. Overly negative feelings wouldn't help at all. She could only wait until tomorrow, when they started team exercises. After that she could discern any weaknesses and find ways to compensate, but not before.

She sighed, the doubts and reasons settling down and leaving her mind quiet. The slightest quirk of her lips told her gratefulness, something that was surely impossible to see through tinted reinforced glass, but Pyro seemed to get the message.

They would succeed, Medic thought as she looked at the other women. Possibly. But very possibly.


	4. Chapter 4

Demo stowed her things away and then changed into a red shirt, well worn black pants, and heavily scuffed boots. Medic thought the ensemble suited the... explosive woman's personality much better than the muted shades she was wearing when she came in. Something in the swearing seemed to draw Scout, and the two of them lead the way to the mess hall, announcing the group's arrival by way by way of thick Scottish brogue and accompanying twittery Boston teen.

It seemed that by that point the men had figured out what the women were there for. They were met with both open hostility and dismissive grins, which all six ignored. Medic was glad that they knew not to get flustered over their comrades' attitudes; they'd see plenty more of the same on the field and getting flustered there would get you killed by a BLU. The women spent the time in line conversing amongst themselves, mostly about battle strategies at Soldier's insistence, and aside from the glares burning into the back of their necks they were left alone.

Medic knew, and was sure the others knew, that it was only a matter of time before there was an... incident. She had faith enough that the instigating man would be left on the ground with a bruised ego and possibly some broken bones; the only question was when it would happen.

They were all seated at a table--the end, against the wall, putting a buffer of empty seats between them and the rest of the trainees--eating the slop and continuing their discussion on strategy, when Engineer suddenly shouted and jumped for no apparent reason.

The Texas looked over her shoulder to glare at the men sitting at the next table, but they simply looked back with confusion and more than a little 'this chick is crazy.' Then there was a perplexing laugh seeming to emanate from nowhere, the pitch far too high to belong to even the youngest scouts.

Engineer's posture and expression instantly turned inward and irritated at the sound. Medic's suspicions were confirmed when a puff of smoke revealed a blond woman wearing a fashionable blue pinstripe pantsuit. The mask over her eyes did little to disguise her bone structure, and allowed her shoulder length hair to frame her face in defined waves.

"Oh, my dear Engineer," she said, her words tinged with a French accent and more than a little upper class sarcasm, "I 'ope I did not _startle_ you."

"Yeah, I'm sure blowin' in my ear wasn't supposed to do anythin', _Spah_," Engineer retorted grumpily.

The blond woman laughed again and gracefully sat down in the next available chair to the right of Scout. She was in the process of flicking open a cigarette case when Soldier rounded on her with 'are you willing to die for your country, maggot?' Medic, and all the others, wondered if Soldier had even noticed that over half the present team was from a country other than the US.

The newly arrived teammate eyed the nigh frothing woman with the same detached interest often seen on Medic's face and then replied with carefully chosen words that seemed quite deliberately devoid of the previously heard sarcasm. Soldier didn't seem to notice as she saluted and sat back down to her dinner.

Spy looked down her nose at the fare as she lit her cigarette. "I see the provisions are as was expected..." She considered, "Then again, it does look slightly better than the grease 'anded to us as fish an hour ago."

"'Us?'" Demo asked, eyebrow rising over her patch.

Even as it was asked, the opposite seat was filled. Given the woman's skinny, leggy build and the process of elimination, she had to be their Sniper. Black hair was cut level with the jaw, her head covered by a hat and her eyes by a pair of aviator style sunglasses. She looked generally bored and willing to be anywhere else but there and declined to make any welcome aside from the slightest wave of her hand towards the rest of her team.

Spy gestured to the silent woman, smoke following her hand in a wispy trail. "In the name of saving fuel the convict was forced to transport the both of us."

Sniper's only response was to roll her eyes and adjust her glasses.

Medic knew that these were the only two women who'd actually been in the business before RED recruited them. Well, Medic had training in the art of dispensing health and death with an even hand while the walls crumbled around her, but she would admit that the bombs were falling at random back then, not with the definite direction they'd face on the field. With Spy and Sniper's arrival the only woman left was the one Medic was most concerned about.

While the other classes required relatively minor adjustments to account for a woman's lack of broad shoulders, such as Engineer's plan to build greater numbers of weaker sentries than her male counterparts, the job of Heavy wasn't something that could be changed that much. They were meant to be tanks, pure and simple, and Medic wasn't sure how much the minigun's weight could be cut without severely reducing the effectiveness. There had to be some faith in the woman's skills, but what kind of woman could fill those shoes? Medic remembered subjects subjected to growth hormones, steroids, male hormones, and the results were overwhelmingly, well, _male_, in the worst sense of the word.

Medic knew it was illogical; if she could do her job then the Heavy could be as masculine as she wanted, and this desire for an actual _woman_ was probably just an overdeveloped feminist sense clouding her judgment. Still...

"Yo," Scout said with a mouth full of creamed corn, "where's the big gal?"

Sniper finally broke her silence with a heavy dose of Australian, explaining Spy's convict comment. "Well, mate, they meant to have her here today but there was something holding her up--"

"Ah, paperwork," Spy cut in, "the chains that bind us all."

"--so she'll be here in four days," the Aussie continued. "We start tomorrow without her."

Sniper was distinctly anti-social and only took part in the conversation involving strategy, where Spy would discuss errant things with the women near her as long as she could continue tormenting Engineer between topics. Medic could understand the way the Texan reacted any time the topic of their Spy came up, and was glad that the two classes spent little time in the other's vicinity during battle (at least, not when they're on the same time). Sniper's distance would be no problem as the only time she should cross paths with the others during the day would be if she was switching vantage points.

All in all, despite her generally pessimistic attitude when it came to the human race and lingering worry about their absent Heavy, Medic felt generally hopeful about the Experimental's chances. 'Hopeful' meaning she gave them a slim chance at success.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a lovely pre-morning. The stars were still out in force but the eastern sky was starting to show the first purple tints. True dawn wouldn't come for another hour but there were a few early birds twittering pleasantly across the base. The various trainees, instructors, and paper pushers of RED were yet to rise to their daily tasks. The occupants of the Experimental shack and adjoining camper were no different, curled up in their bunks and still lost to their dreams. It was quiet, peaceful, and serene.

All shattered by the sudden, sharp, wordless yell of surprised rage that echoed across the base.

Engineer sprang from her bed with a shout, coming to stand in the middle of the room with her wrench pulled back and ready to strike. Spy was just as quick though significantly quieter, bolting upright with her revolver drawn and knife flicking open in her other hand. Demo followed only a second behind, leaping down from the top bunk and grabbing a lamp as she had no weaponry that would fit under her pillow.

Pyro fell out of the bed with a startled mmph and then peered over the mattress with a wary curiosity. Scout vaguely batted at the air and mumbled about her absent brothers needing to leave her alone. Medic poked her head out from under the covers to make a scan of the dim room, decided that it was far too early to exist, and then pulled the sheets back over her head.

It took only seconds for the women to act—or not act, as the case may be—and then the silence was once again broken. This time it was identifiable as vehement Australian tinged swearing filtering in through the closed windows. The reason for Sniper's intense ire became apparent as the front door was kicked open.

"TENNNNNNN-HUT!"

Those who were marginally aware blinked at the woman standing in the doorway.

It was at that point that Scout realized that she wasn't being bothered by siblings and belatedly sprang up with a clock in hand. Pyro looked somewhere between put out and passed out. Medic pulled together enough brainpower to figure out what was going on and then resolutely held her pillow over her head while she forced up all the logic stating that killing a teammate on the first day was a bad idea.

Soldier stomped across the room to her equipment locker and grabbed her helmet, slamming it onto her head with a cheerful flourish. There must have been some error at supply for the thing was big enough to come down over her eyes. Soldier didn't seem to notice as she addressed the room.

"ALL RIGHT, MAGGOTS! Today is the first step towards VICTORY! We move out in only..." she checked the wall clock, "THREE HOURS. As Sun Tzu said, BE READY FOR SLAUGHTER!"

With that Soldier was gone without even shutting the door, leaving her teammates twitching in her wake. A couple seconds later Sniper slammed against the doorframe with a sword in her hand and murder in her eyes. There was a moment of silence in which everyone remained frozen in a surreal scene.

Scout was the first to move. She dropped the clock unceremoniously on the floor, violently kicked away her bedclothes, and stomped off to her locker, swearing the whole way. Demo set the lamp back on the table and then followed suit. Spy set aside her irritation for a moment to wonder, in a sleep deprived sort of way, which accented tirade was the more colorful, before stashing her weapons and lying back down to sleep. Sniper confirmed that Soldier wasn't there for her to kill, so she returned to her camper in less than a good mood. The dull thunk of Sniper's sword hitting the outside of the wooden building broke Engineer out of her trance, leading her to follow the others to the showers in a sleepy daze.

Pyro considered her own nest of blankets from her place on the floor for a while, then got up with a wheezy sigh. She sat on the edge of the bed meant for their absent Heavy and stared. Medic, in the next bunk, flopped onto her side so she could look at the gasmasked woman with weary eyes. After a long internal debate over time and tiredness, she came to the conclusion that Soldier really was right to wake them at this ungodly hour. As women they'd have to work at least twice as hard as any man, and that would include getting to the field early.

With a groan Medic pulled herself up and shuffled over to Spy's bunk. She took a deep breath and made sure she was speaking their shared language.

"Spy. Spy, it is time to vake."

The German was treated to a sharp blue glare and a sharper blade. She was unfazed.

"If ve are to succeed zhen we must be zhere very early. Soldier is _annoying_, but also right."

Spy remained motionless while she processed the statement. After a minute she got up with deliberate, precise, irritated movements and made her way to her locker.

Satisfied that everyone else was up, Medic was left to struggle with her own sleepiness. She leaned down and sharply pinched the back of both her knees (a sensitive area for her). The sting brought her around enough to last her until they got to morning mess, at which point she planned on downing an entire pot of coffee. The necessary early rise would take some getting used to.

~~*~~

The eight women were among the first dozen in line for breakfast and were only beat to the training field by one man who seemed to have as much drill sergeant in him as their own Soldier. He spared them a glance that made it clear that he thought they were a joke and then ignored them, which was just fine by the Experimental. They spent the waiting time constructively, some doing warm up exercises and some checking equipment. After a quarter hour those who were examining their weaponry were persuaded to do some stretches in preparation for the upcoming action. Medic found herself being corrected in her stance by Scout, who was a surprisingly good coach, while Demo surprised them all by being an avid fan of yoga. No woman should be that flexible while bogged down by heavy armor and gear.

Five minutes before the exercise was due to start their instructor arrived. By his build and calculating stare Medic guessed that he was either an engineer or soldier. While his gaze lingered on the women a tad longer than the rest of the sixty-odd trainees, there was not yet any obvious dismissal in his eyes. The German well remembered her specialty instructors and how they did everything in their power to see her fail. While such a challenge only made her a more effective Medic, it would be a better first step for the team as a whole if they only had marginal prejudice to worry about.

_Either way_, she thought, surveying both her team and the men surrounding them, _we __**will**__ succeed._

The PA system echoed across the base, calling for the beginning of exercises. Without a word Instructor walked over to a jeep parked on the edge of the field and hoisted a couple toolboxes out of the bed. He barked off the numbers labeling each and as their ID was called each engineer stepped forward to receive their equipment. It was clear that most of them were desperate to open it and see what treasures awaited them inside, but the look on the instructor's face when one reached for the latch made it clear that they were to remained closed. When all the engineers were once again standing on the edge of the practice field Instructor reached into the bed of the jeep once more, this time withdrawing a stopwatch.

"Level one," he said with a vague wave towards the field. "Go."

The Experimental's Engineer was among the first to leap into action, rushing forth and flinging open their toolboxes once they reached a decent spot. Those left on the sidelines knew little about the actual building of sentries, but it was clear by the intensity of their comrades' swearing that they were given the wrong tools for the job. A couple even made the incredible mistake of trying to call the instructor's attention to this fact, wasting several seconds before they realized what the others had already figured out: the error was intentional.

When the dust cleared about two dozen sentries stood on the field quietly tracking the air. The female Engineer was toward the center of the cluster with a determinedly blank look on her face; she was the last to finish by almost 20 seconds. Several of the men around her looked smugly superior at the apparent failure of the girl who obviously didn't belong there in the first place.

Medic sighed; she knew this was bound to happen. Though the Texan had incredible muscle mass, the fact remained that she was a woman. She didn't have the broad shoulders of her male counterparts and no matter how much she worked out her body would hold on to a greater reserve of fat than a man her same weight. The only class that required more brute strength was the Heavy, but even then they only had to hold their massive guns at hip height. Engineers had to heft, lift, twist. The redhead would probably always be at a disadvantage.

The Texan was on the edge of dropping her defiant stance when Instructor grabbed something from the jeep and tossed it. A light blue blur sailed through the air and about half of the sentries tracked it and made clicking noises as they tried to fire ammo they didn't have. The others didn't.

By the time the wad of Blu-blue wrapped brick landed there were a dozen frantic engineers banging away at their malfunctioning machines. The Texan wasn't among them. Medic was nearly deafened by Scout's cheer.

Instructor said nothing as he noted whose sentry was a failure. Then he turned, jumped up in the bed of the jeep, and lifted a rocket launcher onto his shoulder. The engineers scrambled off the field; the stragglers caught some of the resulting explosion's force. He fired a couple rounds so that no sentry was directly hit and four fell. Then he started firing with more deliberate aim. A few of the engineers' creations took three head on blasts before exploding and they puffed up proud; others kicked the ground as their machines went down with one.

At last a single sentry remained. The first rocket didn't even rattle its bolts. The second dented the tripod legs but it still stood. On the third hit everyone expected it to go down as no other sentry lasted past that, but when the smoke cleared the barrel was still valiantly tracking its arc.

They all looked on in shock when the forth strike didn't quite take it all the way down. On the fifth it was finally reduced to scrap.

The instructor laid down his weapon and jumped down from his vantage point. He paced the length of the field with while everyone tried to figure out whose sentry lasted so long. The murmurs of surprise and disbelief had only just started when the instructor stopped in front of the eight women, turned, and raised an eyebrow at Engineer. The corner of Instructor's mouth tugged upwards just the slightest as he dryly noted, "Well, woman, it looks like you're the best man here."

She blinked as if she couldn't believe it herself, checked the field again, and then slowly started to grin as her louder teammates made their happiness known and fifty men stared at her in openmouthed shock.


	6. Chapter 6

Engineer's rousing victory swept away the doubts kept carefully hidden by the other women. When the training group moved en masse to the obstacle course some of the men started to regard them with something other than dismissal or disdain. However, when the scouts were called upon to make their way through the course the scorn was thick enough to cut. The young Bostonian was met with a chorus of jeers, ranging from the insulting 'Girl Scout' to things that would make a sailor blush.

Scout didn't seem to hear any of it. She did a few stretches and then enthusiastically bounced where she stood in eager anticipation for her chance to prove herself. Her fellow runners either tried to get a look up her skirt or ignored her completely. Medic knew that the ones smart enough to ignore their considerable hormones and concentrate on the task at hand were much more likely to survive training, and thus survive on the battlefield. It was so subtle that the German woman barely caught it, but the Experimental's Scout seemed to know this as well. She looked at the boys around her flirtatiously but there was a hidden edge to her gaze, measuring the rabble and judging those who refused to notice her short skirt as the most dangerous.

Medic was impressed with the young girl. While the blond openly flirted she did it to be a distraction, not to find herself a boyfriend. She was clever enough to know which of the boys would be a threat to her score on this course and therefore a threat to the team's performance later when they did mock battles. She was every bit your average American teenage girl, a touch tomboyish due to her brother's influence, but she also had the drive necessary for survival in a job such as this.

The German woman sighed in soft relief. Aside from the troubling unknown of their still absent heavy, Medic was most worried about their youngest member. Knowing that the girl had her mind in the right place put most of her fears to rest; physical skill was much easier to learn than mental focus.

In lieu of a starting pistol their instructor fired his shotgun into the ground. Many of the scouts who were preoccupied with the blond's legs missed the mark and lost several precious seconds. Many others were also caught unaware. The Experimental's Scout was one of the few who kept their eyes on Instructor, saw him ready his shotgun, and were already crouched into a runner's start when the blast echoed across the course.

As Medic predicted, Scout's main disadvantage was her height. The tallest scouts quickly moved to the lead by virtue of long legs and big strides. The Bostonian was among the shortest present and lagged about a third of the way from the last stumbling boy. Many of the runners were foolish enough to waste their breath shouting insults at the lone female, but Scout was surprisingly mute. Medic expected that the girl would extend her usual noise to the field soon; she spoke of fights in Boston alleys and her eldest brother's sole caution of taking a second to figure out how badly they were going to beat you before you started bragging.

"LEG UP, LASS!" Demo bellowed, putting Soldier to shame in the volume department. Engineer also seemed concerned about Scout's performance and Pyro probably was as well; while the masked woman was remarkably expressive, it was hard to read the back of her head. Soldier seemed distracted by... a conversation with her shovel. Medic filed the observation away and made a note to observe Soldier's psychiatric state more closely in the future. Sniper and Spy appeared to not care, but Medic could see the calculating mind of a professional at work. The German worried as well, as she did for the performance of all the team, but she still held on to that optimism that had long been a stranger to her.

She was broken from her musings by one of the bystanders standing close by. "Looks like your little Girl Scout doesn't have what it takes to keep up with the boys, eh?"

The team doctor carefully kept her eyes on the course. Engineer did as well, though her knuckles cracked when her fists tightened. It was clear that the Texan had already taken a special interest in their Scout's safety and general well being; Medic wasn't surprised. Demo was less restrained, tossing out an insult that was too slurred by accent to be decipherable, as were Pyro's somewhat irritated sounding 'mmphs'. Soldier had ceased the conversation with her shovel and turned to shout at Scout, completely missing the man's comment. Spy's only response was to absently take out her butterfly knife and flick the blade and handles around absently.

Sniper took the measure of the man over the top of her amber aviator glasses. Her eyes lingered on the crosshair design on the sleeve of his shirt, and after a few moments' thought she must have decided it was then her job to take him down a few pegs.

"Y'say that 'cause you've got no eyes," she drawled, the Outback accent turning thick as syrup.

He bristled. "You think you've got a sharper eye than me?"

"Yes," was the simple reply. "See, the thing is that a woman in this business be a damn sight more aware of her limits, an-"

"Yeah, of which there are _many!_" the sniper jeered. He obviously thought he was clever.

Sniper rolled her eyes and turned back to the course. "Dunno why I'm even talkin' to a no hoper like you. She'll show you wankers what's what here in a minute."

"Less zan zat, my dearest convict," Spy said in her usual sugary voice. She stopped flicking her blade around and gestured towards the field.

Almost as soon as she finished speaking there was a sudden chorus of bangs and the scouts were hailed with bean bags. It was set up so that the entire run got hit so those lagging behind didn't have the benefit of foreknowledge. At least half the runners tripped or otherwise threw themselves to the ground. Most of them recovered quickly and started running again.

The Experimental's Scout took a bag to the chest, dead center, and it was obvious from her stagger that it knocked the breath out of her. She took cover behind a column within sight of the spectators and took a few seconds to get her breath back. Some of the other scouts were also taking cover instead of running, and a good third of those still moving were taking the time to dodge behind pillars in case another wave hit. Most were running headlong towards the finish line.

About thirty seconds after she was hit the lone female scout appeared ready to start her run again. However, just before she was going dart out she paused and looked around wildly.

"Yer little sheila's seein' ghosts, _mate_," the male sniper drawled in a bad imitation of an Australian accent.

Sniper might have done something to him but no sooner had he said it and there was another great racket. The young Bostonian had already slammed herself into another column to shield herself from the new hail, this time coming from the other side of the course. She was one of the few to not take a hit, and after the last beanbags fell she was off like a shot.

"Wha..." the man gaped. "How did she-"

"She is a woman who fights," Spy interrupted, "and so she has been told her shortcomingz so often zat it will be at ze front of 'er mind. It does not bring 'er down because she knows she is stronger than they say, but it does cancel out most of ze usual teenage idiocy that leads ze rest to believe zey are invincible."

The man blew her off and went back to watching the scouts.

There was a slight clicking before each volley—that's what Scout stopped to listen for—and that indicated the timing and direction for the barrage of bean bags. A good deal of the scouts figured it out by the third blast, but there were many who decided their best bet was to weather the storm. They held up their arms to guard their heads and kept running. The Experimental's girl stuck to taking cover when the warning sounded.

When Scout reached the finish she hadn't taken any hits aside from the first one, a fact which she shouted for everyone to hear while she did a dance. She was interrupted by Instructor grabbing her arm and propelling her towards one of the two groups he was making out of the finished scouts. The Bostonian's addition to the one caused the other to jeer even louder than they already were; they were the ones who didn't duck and were thus fastest to the finish. Scout started to look pouty and unsure, but when she glanced over to her teammates and saw an array of smug faces she relaxed and started shouting back with insults colorful enough to put the boys to shame.

Eventually the last boy was finished and sorted. Instructor stood in front of them with arms crossed.

"One of these two groups is doing all right," he said, "and the other ain't."

He paused for a moment while the faster group cheered. Among the bystanders there were quite a few cheering too, even though none of the men were divided into teams as the Experimental was. They were cheering the apparent failure of the 'Girl Scout'.

Then Instructor turned to the slower group and grinned. "Good job, kids."

The faster lot shouted with all the teenager fury they had. It took another shotgun blast to the dirt to shut them up enough for Instructor to bellow at them.

"What the hell are _you_ yelling for? You're all dead!" He marched up to the closest scouts and waved the shotgun barrel in their faces. "You think this is going to shoot bean bags? No, it shoots _bullets_. And yeah, people die in this line of work but it damn well better not be because you morons think you're a god damn Kryptonian. Next time, take some damn cover!"

The boys were well and truly cowed. Several in the other group took it as a sign it was time to boast their superiority, the skirted blond included.

Instructor rounded on them. "Don't you dare think you're done, kiddos. You're a step ahead of this lot, yeah, but that just puts you at the second bottom rung of the ladder. Six weeks isn't a lot of time to prepare when your life is on the line. You've gotta duck and still get to the finish as fast as the other kids. Got me?"

Once they were dismissed Scout immediately tackled Medic and started asking what sort of exercises she should do to work up her leg muscles. After an appearance by the bonesaw and a lecture on personal space, the German woman said, "I'll show you vhich muscles to vork once ve get back to zhe shack. In the meantime, all your focus should be on the tests."

Scout still had her hands in the air as the bonesaw hadn't yet returned to Medic's belt. "Uh... yeah, okay, but what am I gonna do? You're all way smarter than-" Soldier chose that moment to hit herself in the head with her own shovel, "...most of you. How's a kid like me gonna help?"

Medic just shrugged. "You never know."


	7. Chapter 7

The group to be tested after the scouts was the snipers. Unlike the first two their test was straightforward: hit targets from a great distance. All of the recruits did well at hitting the first batch, after all, if they couldn't shoot then they wouldn't have made it that far. However, while the first set was stationary the second set ran along a track and the third set moved in all directions. The Experimental's Sniper was one of five who hit every mark without any missed shots.

Some of the men started giving the group of women looks of grudging acceptance at that point, though most remained dismissive or outright hostile.

The spies were next. Their test was a series of verbal questions about how to make a kill. After several replies of 'stab him in the back' the French lady stepped forward. She then proceeded to outline the differences in effectiveness in various areas of the back, using their Engineer as a model. While the blade of the knife was still safely housed in the handle it was clear that Engineer wasn't too thrilled about letting the woman poke her while explaining how much bleeding would result in that spot. Medic was impressed with Spy's knowledge of anatomy. None of the other spies were as thorough as she was.

While the spies were being questioned the obstacle course was rearranged for the pyros. There were to be no beanbags this time, Instructor explained, just a straight shot to the finish. Medic began to wonder if their Pyro wore her mask at all times for a reason other than the apparent psychological; the added labor of drawing air through the heavy filters didn't leave her gasping like most of the others. Medic mused that she was also used to hearing through the thick material since their Pyro was one of the only ones to notice the clicking and so she was able to dodge the hail of beanbags.

One of the pyro recruits was dumb enough to rage at Instructor for lying about the lack of projectiles.

"Everloving rockets, son," the man said in a pitying tone, "that much stupid shouldn't be legal."

The recruit sputtered.

"See those smarmy asshole spies over there? You might not know this, but _BLU has them too! _If you're going to trust a guy you met an hour ago then I should just shoot your head of now and be done with it."

The pyro stepped back to the ranks with considerable meekness.

After that was dealt with they ate lunch at the mess hall. When they returned they moved into the soldier trails, which consisted of five-on-five matches. When it was Soldier's turn she started the fight with a bloodcurdling yell. It was so unexpected that both her opponents and temporary teammates were frozen with surprise. She easily knocked down three of her enemies before they all started moving again, the other two being taken by the other four on her side. The woman clapped the guys on the back, called them maggots, and loudly praised her shovel in celebration.

Demo was still chuckling when she stepped up. Her class's test was to bounce a dummy grenade around a corner to 'destroy' a sentry, three times, all while at a dead run. Medic was worried that the Scot's impaired depth perception would negatively affect her performance, but it seemed that Demo had simply practiced her handicap away as she sunk the shot perfectly all three times.

After the demomen were finished Instructor announced that the heavies would have their first test in the morning. The Experimental's wasn't the only one held up on paperwork. He told them that after the medics answered a round of questions they would be dismissed early, so they'd have time to contemplate exactly how meaningless their so called skills were.

The questions for the medics dealt mainly with the healing side of the job. From the answers it was apparent that many only knew basic first aid and would thus have to learn surgery and bonesetting while at the camp. The ones who were asked questions on the harming side generally included reasoning like, "I've lost more patients to this type of injury," in their answers, indicating they were already doctors and would probably have to focus on the battle side of things. The Experimental's Medic mused that she was strangely lucky for her violententry into meatball surgery; she had extensive training in both facets of her new job.

Instructor announced that the heavys' first trial would be done first thing in the morning, after which they'd be sent to their class specific exercises. The trainees were released an hour early, "So you can contemplate the worthlessness of your existence," according to Instructor.

As soon as they were dismissed Scout was at Medic's side, bouncing where she stood and talking so fast that the German hardly understood her.

"Oh man you are fuckin' wicked!" the girl gushed. "I didn't know about there bein' a badass bleeder in your leg like that."

The woman gave Scout a look. The Bostonian paused, glanced down at Medic's belt and the bonesaw that hung from it, and then nervously excused herself. She leapt over to badger Engineer, who seemed to have a far higher tolerance to teenager than the rest of them.

As their youngest member knew nothing about volume control her first comment to the Texan was plain to hear, "Hardhat, that Medic we got is something else in a real good way. I was kinda worried we'd get some reject nurse but man she's awesome! Just lookin' at her you can tell she means business. I ain't got no worries now."

If questioned at a later date Medic would not have admitted this under even the most disturbing of tortures, but she smiled when she heard Scout's comment. After a brief examination of herself Medic decided that she liked the young girl, even if she could be very annoying. Maybe because she was proof that something in the world was moving forward. When the German was a teenager, any girl in her neighborhood who dared speak out was shown her place very quickly and thoroughly.

She barely had time to think this when she was brought back to the planet by a derisive snort. One of the other medics stepped closer.

"You think you have a good pick here, Girl Scout?" the man sneered. He was asked a question of the harming nature and had the general demeanor of a well-schooled and stuck up doctor.

Medic was used to such insults from his type. She rolled her eyes and waved off his words, "Vhatever you vish to zhink, you vill zhink. I vill not vaste my breazh on you."

"Well Christ, Girl Scout," he continued, ignoring Medic and focusing on Scout, "you can't even _understand _her so how can you depend on her?"

Scout scanned the crowd, who were all watching the scene, and then looked back at the medic with one eyebrow cocked. "That don't even make one hella sense, man. Half the guys here ain't from the states. Your accent's worse than most of 'em too."

He seemed to take this as an insult. "You're so Brooklyn you're almost as bad as the Kraut, and you're telling _me_ I have an accent?"

Scout _definitely_ took that as an insult. "What the hell's wrong with you!?" she bellowed. "I'm from Boston, you asshole. I'm not some Brooklyn pansy! And I ain't got an accent from where I'm standing."

Medic rolled her eyes and tapped the girl on the shoulder, gesturing that they should leave. She knew they would never win with words; they just had to prove themselves with their actions on the field and even then there'd be plenty of dissenters left. Scout was so disgusted at the Brooklyn comment that she was speechless—something which Medic already recognized as a miracle—so she didn't argue. The rest of the Experimental turned to go.

"So, _nurse_, you ever screw up and kill someone?"

Medic paused too long before answering and she knew it. Without even turning her head she could see at least a dozen onlooking men who knew it. She closed her mouth without saying anything. Her silence was answer enough.

"Well, well, _well_," came the medic's smug reply. The German clenched her fists, the rubber squeaking at the pressure. She bit her tongue. There were reasons, good reasons, for her early failures, but she knew it would do no good to list them there. It would just sound like a string of excuses... and she felt that's all the reasons were. She should have been able to save those people.

The Experimental's Spy looked a guarded sort of wary. Scout was just staring openmouthed like she couldn't believe that their doctor fouled up that badly. Medic didn't look at the others. A good number of the men around them jeered.

To make matters worse Medic recognized the crunch of boots with the slightest limp over the noise; Instructor had returned. He was the one man there whose opinion actually mattered to the Experimental. Without his okay they wouldn't be cleared for duty, and RED set up the experiment as pass-fail for all of them. Medic didn't want to be the one to bring the team down.

"Did you make that dress?"

Medic blinked a couple times, looked at Instructor, and blinked again. He appeared to have asked the question in earnest as he was seriously waiting for the answer. She nodded, very confused.

He had an open file in his hand. "According to your background check you are quite the seamstress, ey?"

"Ja..." she answered slowly. "I vorked at a dressmaker's shop from zhe time I vas a child until zhe Var."

Instructor continued from the file, "And when the bombs started dropping you became a surgeon's assistant."

It all felt very surreal to Medic. "My hands vere zhe most steady, and I vas not bozhered by zhe blood."

He snapped the file closed. "And when the good doctor was killed you were left to perform surgery alone, with no real medical training."

"It is no excuse," Medic said with self-directed anger. "I should have studied his notes and books more closely. I should have spent more time..." she trailed off, knowing that if she went down that well worn path she'd be beating herself up for hours. "Zhere is no reason for someone to die at my hands unless I mean for zhem to die," she finished.

Almost against her will she looked at the man who started this mess. The medic was grinning at her. She looked back at the ground.

Scout rounded on him, "Oh, so you've never messed up, hotshot?"

"Me?" he scoffed. "_Never_."

No one there expected Instructor to throw his boot at him. The medic rubbed his shoulder and stared first at the shoe lying in the dust and then baffled at the man who hurled it.

"Do you really think," Instructor asked slowly and deliberately, "that an intelligence agency can't get past your pitiful excuse for a name change?"

The medic sputtered.

Instructor opened a second file. "Now let's see. She lost three people she might have been able to save because she had no training, and those three were within a month of her teacher dying. After that she had deaths she blamed on her inexperience but that wasn't the case, now was it?"

"Only _trois_?" Spy interrupted with a tone of annoyed dismissal. "Zis is what you worry us wiz? Ze ozers were all by intent, correct?"

Suddenly Medic felt much better. "Ja... a bit of morphine here, a severed artery zhere..."

Instructor turned back to the pale male medic. "_Meanwhile_ you had the best medical training there is and you had more losses than she did. Eleven, according to the medical board that revoked your license. What's that say about how screwed your team is gonna be?"

Someone in the back of the crowd suggested that Instructor was playing nice with the girls. Instructor didn't even have a chance to open his mouth before Scout started shouting.

"Hey, jackass, if he was playin' favs then _we'd_ be the ones yellin'!" She puffed out her chest with pride. "We fucking _earned_ bein' here. You think we got here because we like it easy? Are you really that stupid?"

Engineer tried to shush the girl. If Medic hadn't been so unsteadied by the whole event she might have helped; the doubters would believe what they wanted and no amount of yelling would change that.

Scout didn't listen. "Get off, Hardhat! We earned our scores and you know it. They better as hell know it too 'cause if they don't then they're blind _and_ stupid! When I was doing my run I knew somethin' bad was coming because when you play on the boy's team your own guys try to bean you when you're runnin' bases and you kinda get used to seein' it comin'. Demo's awesome with those bouncy things because _she's awesome with em'_, not 'cause someone was easy on her, and you all saw it. Sniper too, with those weird ass moving bullseyes. Pyro can book it in a suit 'cause she's in all kinds of good shape and Soldier nailed five guys just with her crazy! And Medic and Spy are crazy smart and I ain't worried one little fucking bit about Medic bein' our doc. Hardhat's sentry wasn't gettin' pop bottles tossed at it, no, it was the same rockets as everyone. It stayed up _because it was the best!_"

By the end of her tirade the whole field was silent and staring at her. She glanced around, put her hands on her hips and sassed, "If you _boys_ can't handle it when we've got bigger_ balls_ than you, well hey, maybe you should _man up_ and grow a pair instead of whining like a bunch of _fucking_ schoolgirls."

One of the recruits started denouncing her. Scout cut him off.

"No. No! Shut up, grow a fucking pair, and prove us wrong by being better than us when we're training. If all you got is whinin' then you better run home to your ma right now 'cause the BLU bastards ain't gonna listen to your bitchin'."

Another tried to tell her that the women just got lucky.

"Yeah, whatever, if it helps you sleep at night."

A cry that the Experimental was going to wash out.

"Did you miss the part where you need to _do_ something?" She tossed her hands into the air. "_Christ_, I can't ever shut up and I listen better than you morons. If you're gonna keep on bitchin' then it's pretty damn obvious that's all you got. We kicked your asses today and you just can't handle it so you're gonna be all talk 'cause you know you don't have anything else."

There was a pause. The sniper who was heckling Scout earlier spoke up. His words were a surprise to everyone.

"She's right," he shrugged as they all gawked at him. "Hey, when she's right she's right. They did pretty damn good today, and there ain't no arguing with that unless you've got some kind of denial complex." He tossed a mock salute to the crowd. "I'm off to practice my targets since I know blowing it out my ass isn't going to get it done."

His words brought a cascade of grudging agreement from the other men. Not all of them, but enough for it to be a solid win in terms of respect.

Scout turned to a bemused Experimental with all the arrogance she had. "Let's go girls."

Medic actually laughed. She clapped the young girl on the shoulder and said, "You see, Scout, you vere of great help."


End file.
